


i only wanna do bad things to you

by plalligator



Series: Queen's Thief Regency AU [2]
Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9484991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plalligator/pseuds/plalligator
Summary: “Perhaps we should move this to the bed?”(a porn sequel to The Duchess's Deception that was absolutely not checked for historical accuracy)





	

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to lionize, who left a comment on the main fic that said "I hope Gen has a bedroom nearby or even that settee cause Irene needs to sex the shit out of him" and inspired me to write them fucking on the chaise longue
> 
> thanks as always to the bae, pageleaf, for the beta.

“Perhaps we should move this to the bed?”

Irene pulled back. 

“How presumptuous,” she said, recovering her breath. Her lips felt swollen and clumsy.

Eugenides gave his wicked grin, and his hand slid up her leg under her dress.

“Not presumptuous, merely anticipating Your Grace’s pleasure,” he said, and dipped his head to kiss the line of her neck. “A bed has uses that a chaise longue does not."

Irene hummed thoughtfully, shivering at the press of his lips to the thin skin at her pulse point.

“You say your servants are off for the day?”

He flicked a glance up at her. 

“They are.”

“Then I think I shall have you right here,” she said coolly, and watched as his breath hitched. “The bed can wait until our wedding night.”

His mouth gaped in a dark ‘o’ briefly, and he looked very young all of a sudden, desire stripping him of the masks he usually wore. She watched him swallow, tracking the line of his throat.

“As Your Grace wishes,” he said hoarsely.

“Naturally,” she replied, amused.

She leaned over him, using her greater height to push him back on the chaise longue. She straddled his lap and bent over him to bracket his upper body. He made a little noise and wriggled as if testing the extent of his confinement. Irene met his eyes and insinuated a knee in between his thighs, pressing up against his groin just enough to be painful. He hissed and went limp.

“Stay,” she said, and sat back to observe her prize. The sight of him beneath her was just as pleasing as she had always thought it would be, in the most private and deeply buried part of her mind. He met her eyes and smirked, as if he could tell exactly what she was thinking.

He wouldn’t be able to smirk soon enough.

She tapped a finger on his chest, on top of his waistcoat.

“Off,” she said, but didn’t move so he could fully sit up. He raised a single eyebrow at her, but unbuttoned his waistcoat and shrugged it off, then lifted his shirt up and made to pull it off. His head and arms got briefly entangled before he wriggled free, breathless and flushed. Irene was struck by the image of him with his arms above his head, held captive by the fine linen twisted around his wrists. Another thing to consider for the wedding night.

For now, she ran a hand down his bare chest, through the sparse and wiry hair there. Pressed a hand to his diaphragm and felt his breath push against it. Thumbed at his flat nipples, then, at his hiss, grabbed one between her forefinger and thumb and twisted. He arched into it with a pretty sigh.

“Irene,” he said, halfway to a whine. “I’ll be a poor duke if I expire of sexual frustration before the wedding."

She shushed him, running a hand up and down his side like she was gentling an animal.

“Wouldn’t it be embarrassing to have to bury a second husband?”

Just for that, she slapped him across the mouth, lightly. He grunted and bit his lip and for a moment she was afraid she’d terribly misjudged and froze. But then he sighed and settled beneath her, eyes bright and breathing hard. Something relaxed in her chest and she found her voice.

“Are you going to behave now?”

“Probably not,” he admitted with a smile in his voice, “but let me make it up to you.” He looked her straight in the eyes and licked his lips, and Irene’s whole body went hot. She moved up till her knees were planted on either side of head and lifted the mass of her skirts and petticoats out of the way.

“Go on,” she said. “Let’s see if that mouth is good for anything.” She had herself tensed, braced with thighs trembling a little, when the first touch of his mouth to her cunt made her gasp aloud. He hummed a laugh that sent shivers up her body and pressed a kiss to the tender skin on the inside of her thigh before working his way back up. 

He was patient and tireless, using his mouth with a single-minded focus she wouldn’t have thought him capable of if she hadn’t seen him plot to take down Nahuseresh. Warmth and pressure building in her belly, she found herself rocking into his touch, gasping. She was more than ready, but he kept going, licking at the ever more tender flesh but circling around the spot that would give her relief. It felt impossibly hot, inflamed almost, and she could feel slick getting on her thighs.

 _“It must be all over his face,”_ she thought, and ground down on him, shuddering.

“Eugenides,” she said hoarsely, and then, louder, “Eugenides!”

Luckily for her fraying patience, he seemed to understand. He flicked his tongue at the little tender nub he had been so assiduously avoiding. A cry burst out of her and she bucked her hips, sparing only a half a thought to hope he could still breathe. Then he did it again, and she lost all reason. She was _so close,_ teetering on the edge and he was going to damn well get her there, the bastard. On pure instinct, she grabbed two handfuls of his hair and _yanked._ He moaned open-mouthed against her cunt, and it was the light scrape of teeth that did it.

She closed her eyes and shuddered through her release, hands fisted in his hair like a lifeline. His mouth was still moving, chasing the last clenching shocks out of her. Finally, she sat back, easing away so he had room to breathe. He wiped his mouth carelessly with the back of his hand and smiled up at her. His lips were red and swollen, and she couldn’t resist bending down to kiss him, thorough and sweet.

“Well?” he said when they broke apart. She tilted her head, considering.

“Satisfactory,” she said finally, though she couldn’t keep a smile from her lips. “I suppose you’ve earned your reward.”

With one hand she worked at the fastenings on his trousers, freeing his cock from where it strained against the cloth of his trousers and smallclothes. Even if she hadn’t been able to feel his hardness, she would have known he was eager from the way he fell silent with nary a smart remark.

She ran her hand up and down his cock, keeping her touch gentle, teasing the hair at the base with her fingernails.

 _“Irene,”_ he said, long and plaintive. “Irene, please.” The ease with which he surrendered his control pleased her, so she decided to take pity on him. Taking him in a firm grip, she looked up at his face and saw that his eyes were squeezed shut. 

“Eugenides,” she said. His eyes flew open, and she met his gaze as she stroked once, twice, three times and then he came with choked-off cry.

There was a moment of immobility where he lay panting and Irene was able to savor his expression and the flush on his cheeks.

“Gods,” he said fervently. “Irene, you’re marvelous.”

Something in her stomach flipped at that. Ridiculous. Irene, Duchess of Attolia, did not get _butterflies._

“Hm,” she just said instead, though she was smiling rather like the cat that got the cream and clambered off him, since the situation on the chaise longue was becoming rather precarious. “You can accompany me to the Earl of Erondites’ ball next week. I’ll be in emerald green, so do try and wear something that doesn’t clash too horribly.”

Eugenides took her hand and brought it to his mouth, laying a kiss on first her palm and then her wrist.

“Of course,” he said. “As Your Grace wishes.”  



End file.
